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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26750986">What You Mean</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/KabochaKitsune/pseuds/KabochaKitsune'>KabochaKitsune</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>A/B/O/tober 2020 [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>One Piece</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>A/B/O/tober, A/B/O/tober 2020, Accidental Bonding, Accidental Mate Marking, Alpha/Beta, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal, Biting, Bratting, Confessions, Kairouseki | Seastone, Knotting, Loud Sex, M/M, Moral Dilemmas, Panic, Penis Size, Rough Sex, Scent Kink, Scenting, Size Difference, Teasing, Violent Sex, reversible, size queen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 12:09:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,042</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26750986</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/KabochaKitsune/pseuds/KabochaKitsune</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Smoker shook his head. He had this out with himself every time, before, after, often during. He was tired of doing it during. His mind was well made up, guilt or no, and he nosed behind the other man's ear, breathing deep of his scent. How a beta smelled so good to him, he still couldn't guess. But Law's personal scent was rich, multilayered. ... Mostly, when they did this, he smelled of a pure, unbridled and unabashed <i>need</i>. A put-on submission that he wore over his earned pride like a mantle but wore well; desire and no hint of embarrassment about it in the least.</p><p>That, Smoker thought, was what did it for him. It was far from the only thing, but it was what made him <i>crazy</i>.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Smoker/Trafalgar D. Water Law</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>A/B/O/tober 2020 [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1948057</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>114</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>A/B/O/tober 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>What You Mean</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello I decided to make my own __tober challenge! Because after I wrote <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26326687">the last A/B/O piece</a> to scratch an itch I got Inspired. Welcome to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/collections/A_B_O_tober_2020/profile">A/B/O/tober</a> and enjoy your stay. :&gt;</p><p>Day 1: Accidental Mate Marking</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"S-Smoker-ya..."</p><p>The Vice Admiral could only <i>growl</i> into the former Warlord's neck. God. He shouldn't have been doing this - neither of them should have been doing this. Should ever have done this. But it was far from the first time, assuredly far from the last, and he <i>could not</i> get enough of how the beta <i>quivered</i> underneath him when his knot pressed to that pucker on the first slow thrust. Every time, the same tremble, the same <i>need</i>, and he knew he'd never be tired of it.</p><p>It felt, even now, like a betrayal of his station. No matter who the Alliance members were as people, they were still <i>pirates</i>, and his job and every word of Naval Justice were very, very clear on the stance of pirates.</p><p>Except when they weren't. When Warlords were allowed. When something here or there begot the turning of the other cheek.</p><p>Smoker shook his head. He had this out with himself every time, before, after, often during. He was tired of doing it during. His mind was well made up, guilt or no, and he nosed behind the other man's ear, breathing deep of his scent. How a beta smelled so good to him, he still couldn't guess. But Law's personal scent was rich, multilayered. In battle, whether with sword or word, he smelled as self-assured and proud and strong as any alpha would dream to; in post-coital sleep, he smelled young and soft and a kind of vulnerable that put Smoker in <i>mind</i> of young, unmoored omegas, even if the scent notes were not the same. Now, like this, under him... there were notes of that same self-sure inner strength, a purring viciousness he knew could turn to tease, and the slightest whiff of that vulnerability, open and laid bare (and that made something in Smoker's gut clench, every time) - but mostly, he smelled of a pure, unbridled and unabashed <i>need</i>. Sexuality and desire and a put-on submission that he wore over his earned pride like a mantle but wore well; hunger and pleasure and no hint of embarrassment in the least.</p><p>That, Smoker thought, as he tilted his head to nip at the cartilage of the smaller man's ear, was what did it for him. It was far from the only thing, but it was what made him <i>crazy</i>.</p><p>"Come on," Law rasped, rolling hips up and backing up against Smoker's knot, pulling a growl of warning or desire or both from the depths of the Vice Admiral's chest. "Wreck me."</p><p>There was something so undeniably <i>hot</i> about such a proud man having no shame in wanting to be <i>destroyed</i>.</p><p>Far be it from Smoker to deny him. Hell, far be it from him to be <i>able</i> to. He dragged his tongue over Law's nape, tasting as much as scenting all his layered flavors, and nipped there once before starting to <i>move</i>.</p><p>Law's moans started loud and got louder, every fucking time. No qualms about enjoying this, <i>voicing it</i>, moving his whole body to match Smoker's thrusts and moaning like a dirty whore.</p><p>(Smoker didn't have thoughts like that cross his mind, usually; it had been Law who had voiced it first, cheeky, clearly getting off on debasement in debauchery. Even when he knew - not pretended but <i>knew</i>, Smoker could smell it - just exactly who he was in the world at large. Part of Smoker envied him that absolute clarity.)</p><p>Not that Smoker was the slightest bit surprised anymore that it took little to no buildup for the other man to feel the fucking <i>pleasure</i> it took to make those sounds to billow out in earnest. Law wasn't exactly tiny, at least not in comparison to Smoker, but he was slim, and he was a <i>beta</i>. Omegas were meant to stretch, to open up to size. A much smaller omega than Law would have still been an easier fit for an alpha Smoker's size.</p><p>And Law <i>loved it</i>.</p><p>Smoker had met size queens before, but Law was in another category. It had taken merely three ill-advised whirlwind trysts and two rough fucks for him to take Smoker's knot, over all of Smoker's own protests. Fuck, he'd bled a little that first time. And had the gall to tease Smoker for his worry, call him <i>fussy</i>. Bastard. Pirate or not, Smoker wasn't interested in injuring a partner. But nothing he said or did had gotten Law to admit to injury. <i>A tight fit</i>, he'd called it, laughing breathlessly even while trembling and full and <i>still coming</i> in Smoker's lap.</p><p>A low rumble sounded in Smoker's chest at just the memory of it, and he pressed his knot up <i>flush</i> to that so-tight hole for a long moment before resuming fucking it hard and deep, feeling it <i>stretch</i> around his girth. He trained his eyes down the length of that curved, tatted back, to the firm, muscled ass spread <i>wide</i> by the girth of his cock. The friction and squeeze of the younger man's tightness was indescribable, but Smoker also loved that Law was so <i>narrow</i> that his cock rubbed slickly between the other's cheeks with every thrust. It was lewd, filthy, and maybe he should have been ashamed, but what alpha wouldn't find pleasure in a lover's entire fucking <i>body</i> hugging the breadth of his cock?</p><p>"Nnuh, Smo-yan..."</p><p>"Fucking brat," Smoker responded instantly, irritation less and less real the more they did this, but if Law was pulling up that shitty epithet to goad him - and he was - then Smoker knew he wanted the retaliation, and who was he to deny a lover anything so simple? He bit down on the back of that long, exposed neck, <i>hard</i>, and Law went boneless underneath him with a loud exhalation of moan and whine and <i>need</i>.</p><p>"Smoker-ya... Smoker-ya... ah, fuck..."</p><p>Fuck. Fuck. Fuck that breathy fucking voice he could put on - no, wore underneath his skin and had waiting all the time, just needing Smoker's touch and tooth and cock to coax it out, bending back to <i>some</i> politeness level under his press...</p><p>He was <i>slamming</i> inside the smaller man before he could stop himself, so easily with how hungry Law's body was for him, teeth still buried in that beautiful tan neck, and Law was coming to fucking <i>pieces</i> under him. Shit, he'd never heard the other man cry out like he was now, pinched exhalations that were almost - no. No, they <i>were</i> yelps, cries of overload and submission and pure pleasure, pretty painted back arching just-so to open himself up to deep, hard drives of cock into ass. Smoker growled low into skin that tasted of sweat and musk and silk and copper, gripping lithe hips and pulling the boy back into his lap just as hard as he was rutting forward into him, and god but that sweet heat was taking him whole, thick shaft pounding into the body that should have been - <i>was</i> - too small for it, unequipped without omega slick no matter what Law said about it, knot to tight ring, and distantly he heard Law <i>screaming</i>.</p><p>
  <i>Fuck.</i>
</p><p>That was a rare treat, and he came out of his head a little to listen, really listen, to the proud and untouchable mastermind of a pirate captain babble pleas and praises between throat-cracking screams, trying with every rock backward on his knees to take Smoker's knot <i>now</i>. He clawed the sheets and tore his throat with screams that would have sounded like agony if Smoker didn't know what the note of desperate pleasure in each one sounded like, <i>begging</i>, practically crying for the claim and fill in tone if not word, and Smoker couldn't deny him <i>anything</i>. He gripped those pretty hips hard enough to bruise, nails digging half-moon marks into skin, and pressed the younger man down beneath the weight of his chest, the grip of fang into neck, and <i>slammed</i> short shallow thrusts against that tight hole until a moment of bare relaxation let him <i>cram</i> himself in, one thick push and <i>pop</i> all at once. Held back his own groan behind tight teeth and curled lip, listened to Law <i>wail</i> as he came, squeezing down tight and quivering with release as Smoker continued with shallow thrusts, aching in that tight heat, bit down to blood, and groaned as he came as well, knot swelling to lock them together and keep his rush of thick, hot seed inside that beautiful body. <i>Mine</i>, he roared to himself, possessing this brat of a pirate who mewled for his dick - in at least the privacy of his own mind. The intent, or at least, the salacious hormonal equivalent growled or purred into skin, stamped all over and inside the other with bruise and seed and stink.</p><p>When he came back to himself, the smaller man was breathing hard as though he'd run an entire marathon - and his own teeth were still buried in that pretty neck.</p><p>He blinked, eased open his aching jaw, and found himself admiring a beautiful circle of red and purple and <i>blood</i> tattooed around the full back of that pretty neck.</p><p>...</p><p>Oh, hell.</p><p>Smoker wrapped arms quickly around the body starting to tremble beneath his, pressing the slowing, relaxing rhythm of his own heart to the thunder of the younger man's, nosing at his ear, carefully and intentionally scenting out <i>ease</i> and <i>calm</i> and <i>care</i>.</p><p>"You..."</p><p>"It's alright."</p><p>"Smoker, you..."</p><p>He tried not to tense at the lack of honorific.</p><p>"You <i>marked</i> me."</p><p>"...I did."</p><p>"What the fuck!?"</p><p>Smoker pressed his face to the side of the smaller man's neck, away from the wounds, and rubbed his cheek up and down the other's jugular. Scent. Comfort. Apology. The last was not something he often abided in himself, but now, now was the place for it.</p><p>"Trafalgar... Fuck." The last was a mutter. What words were there for this?</p><p>"How dare you - how <i>dare</i> you - "</p><p>It was clear enough that Law was trying his best to voice his fury, sound his strength and independence and that self-sure viciousness above the bite on his neck and the weight on his back and the knot in his ass. The tumult and panic and <i>fear</i> were much clearer to Smoker's nose.</p><p>"Easy. That wasn't intentional." Some part of Smoker wanted to snarl that, both in self-defense and in hard dominance. But his tone was even, volume middling. Just truth, not excuse.</p><p>A half hysterical noise burst from the younger man's throat, and Smoker folded himself fully over the smaller body, holding him, blanketing him, shielding him. He could be still and balanced in word all he wanted, but when that same soft vulnerable note curled into the other man's - fuck, <i>shit</i>, his <i>mate's</i>, now - scent, especially like this, it was beyond him to act unaffected. He held the smaller form tight, breathed measured breath slowly across his ear, warmed him with his own considerable body heat. Every pore on his body scented out <i>protection</i> and <i>safety</i> as strongly and thickly as he could manage.</p><p>The body beneath his shook. Tattooed fingers trembled where they clenched, whiting the knuckles, in the sheets. Smoker held tighter still, a whisper of <i>I've got you</i> curling through his scent with as much clarity as if his voice had murmured it in the younger man's ear.</p><p>All at once, one of those hands released, and a blue aura spread in a bubble around them both as the boy's voice, shaking, murmured <i>Room -</i></p><p>Smoker's hand snapped out to wind fingers between slimmer ones, pin that hand back to the mattress.</p><p>"Don't." <i>Don't do something stupid to yourself while you're panicking, you idiot brat.</i></p><p>He could <i>feel</i> Law's breath catch in the echo against his own chest.</p><p>"No - let go - "</p><p>"It's alright - "</p><p>"It's <i>not</i> - "</p><p>"Trafalgar - "</p><p>"I have to get rid of it - "</p><p>Smoker growled, not in warning but out of frustration, as the fingers twined in his twisted so hard he was afraid they'd snap in his grip. He let go only to let his forearm go to smoke, hand billowing across the room to grab his jitte and bring it back in under a second, press the tip firmly - but gently - under the younger man's jaw. The Room flickered and went out.</p><p>"Don't."</p><p>He expected the full-bodied shudder beneath him, against him - god, still around his swollen knot, making his cock throb - and pressed himself down to bulwark against it. He did not expect the stuttering intake of breath, the taste of tears in the air, but they also weren't surprising, and he nuzzled deeper against that so pretty neck.</p><p>"Smoker... someone will see - "</p><p>"Cover it up." He was surprised at the decisiveness, the unshakable calm, in his own voice.</p><p>Law's laugh was a single pinched bark of a noise, rusty and disused, more a scoff than any sound of amusement. "Sure. As if I can keep the back of my fucking <i>neck</i> covered forever in the idiosyncratic weather in the fucking Line, it's not a fucking <i>hickey</i> - "</p><p>"Then... <i>don't</i> cover it up." This time, Smoker's voice was less decisive for being more... coaxing. Almost more a suggestion than an imperative.</p><p>Law tensed beneath him. Smoker held down a flinch at the tightness squeezing his cock, his knot, keeping his grimace to his face alone. He could feel all the skin against his heating slowly, smelled the faintest whiff of - </p><p>Wait. Really? </p><p>Fucking embarrassment?</p><p><i>Embarrassment</i>, underneath the near-panic and quivering attempts at fury? Fuck, that was almost cute.</p><p>"You're - insane."</p><p>Law's voice, for perhaps the first time since Smoker had first met him, sounded as tremulous as that sweet-sour note in his sleeping scent. Smoker sighed slowly against the other's goosebump-prickled neck. This was not how he'd wanted to have anything related to this conversation.</p><p>"Not as much as you might think."</p><p>"Wh - And who shall I say I, the Surgeon of Death, allowed to mark me? <i>A Marine?</i>"</p><p>"Your mate, idiot. Beyond that it's no one's business."</p><p>The tension in that body this time was less clench and more freeze, and the whiff of embarrassment became a <i>cloud</i> of scent around them both. Smoker did his level best not to grin against the other man's neck.</p><p>"You said it was an accident - !"</p><p>"It was - "</p><p>"Then what the fuck - "</p><p>Smoker cut that question off with a <i>growl</i>, a rumble of warning, the sound utterly Alpha and brooking no argument. But it was not the sound of challenge, dominance; it was the pure sound of a Vice Admiral, a squadron leader, demanding attention and obedience for his companion's own good. He could almost <i>hear</i> the other man frowning, but just as much, he heard the unstated <i>go ahead</i>. A breath. "I wanted to ask you first."</p><p>That pretty olive skin went all <i>red</i> beneath him, hotter than ever, and all scent from the smaller body cut off with a <i>snap</i> like a drawbridge crashing down. Smoker frowned, nosing once more at the unmarked portion of the boy's neck.</p><p>Hell. He really was a boy, wasn't he? So many teens and young adults, legally men but barely at all, grew up too quickly on the seas, without enough time to leave every part of boyhood behind, healthily or at all...</p><p>"Hm," he mused, nuzzling that pulse point again and pulling his jitte back from under that pretty sculpted jaw. "If your answer is no, then you'd better take care of that while you still have time - "</p><p>"I didn't say that."</p><p>It was Smoker's turn to still, brows rising. Even when he felt sure he could read the other man like a book...</p><p>He said nothing, waiting. Settled down a little more comfortably over the other, steadying the other man with proximity and warmth and weight. When minutes passed without further conversation, he took the other man's earlobe carefully between his teeth and rocked slowly down on the other body, grinding hips to hips, shifting his swollen knot and thick cock inside the smaller man. Law gasped underneath him, the sound soft, small, unvoiced. Just that was enough for Smoker to hear pleasure, comfort, soft apprehension. It wasn't the same as the multifaceted layers of scent, but it was something. Gently, he nudged a headbutt to the other man's temple.</p><p>"I had thought - "</p><p>"Are you serious?" <i>Law</i> was suddenly <i>deadly</i> serious, his form all hard lines, his scent sharp and nearly accusatory after a dearth of any projection at all, his eyes hard when he looked over his shoulder. Smoker tried and failed to control the whipping gale of affronted fury billowing up in his own scent.</p><p>"Why the <i>hell</i> would I make up something like this?"</p><p>"Why the hell would you want to be mated to someone you're continually trying to arrest?"</p><p>Smoker paused.</p><p>That was a fair question, given that he had never included Law in any of his private discussions with himself, the detail or the overall, and certainly not the decision he had come to.</p><p>"Well?"</p><p>Smoker's frown was more at himself than at anyone or anything else.</p><p>"...Threatening. Threatening to arrest."</p><p>The hardness melted from Law's eyes all at once, clearing to utter, unabashed surprise.</p><p>"Wh-" Even now, it was surprising to hear the younger man lose his footing. "What?"</p><p>Smoker tried not to roll his eyes, growling out a low sigh instead. "You, and that Straw Hat idiot, for that matter... I <i>should</i> arrest you. It's my duty."</p><p>Law didn't so much narrow eyes as furrow, lower, brows. "...But?"</p><p>"But you've liberated entire countries the Marines and Government haven't cared or dared to touch in decades." He'd had a dozen, maybe a hundred, dark and ugly conversations with himself, admissions, hideous confrontations of lies he told himself, lies his superiors told him, lies he told his own men every day. It had all come down to this, in the end. "I can't say that removing the two of you from the pool of otherwise wanton degenerates would actually serve Justice as it's supposed to be."</p><p>Law stared at him for a long, long moment.</p><p>"...A lot like Fujitora, aren't you?"</p><p>Smoker snorted at the comparison. "Hmph. He opens his mouth too far and too often."</p><p>"Heh. <i>That's</i> your one complaint."</p><p>"You find that funny?"</p><p>Law smirked, letting eye contact drop as he settled his cheek back to the mattress, tucked back in under the cover of Smoker's body. "I find it telling."</p><p>Smoker considered that for a long moment, shook his head, and cast that off for later. "Trafalgar - "</p><p>"Law."</p><p>"...Law." Smoker let his jitte fall with a soft clatter from the mattress to the rug. Stroked knuckles at the purpling skin around the fresh punctures on that long neck, eliciting a shiver. "Will you keep this?"</p><p>"Ask me what you mean to ask."</p><p>"...Will you be my mate?"</p><p>"What does mateship mean to you, Vice Admiral?"</p><p>The question was so abrupt, so immediate, that Smoker knew Law had had it fully formed and waiting. The knowledge made him frown as much as the question itself. "It means we... belong to each other." Crudely put, but he was no good at sentimental gestures. "Does it mean something else among pirates I should know about?"</p><p>Law's laugh, still disused and croaking but less tense, reverberated pleasantly against his chest. "Good. You passed. If you'd said it meant that <i>I</i> belong to <i>you</i>, I'd kill you where you lay, cut this entire skin patch off myself, and graft some of yours in its place before your body cooled."</p><p>The growl rumbling up from the very depths of Smoker's chest and voicing itself between grit teeth was immediate. "Any alpha who doesn't think they belong to their mate, as much as their mate belongs to them, isn't worth the title."</p><p>"I wonder," Law hummed. Smoker didn't answer, didn't think Law was fishing for a response, exactly. After a moment, the younger man continued: "And what about the weeks or months I go without seeing you?" That lithe and powerful body <i>rocked</i> under his, a slow, teasing undulation as his scent eased slowly back, tease and faux innocence even as he shifted himself around Smoker's thick cock, squeezed subtly onto his knot, coaxing out a stuttered breath. "Do you care who I fuck?"</p><p>Smoker blinked at the question. "What old-fashioned nonsense." Demanding monogamy from one's - well, beta. The non-alpha mate, particularly. Smoker huffed. Possessive, outdated alpha-posturing bullshit, dating back to alphas with harems of trapped second-class citizens for mates. Disgusting. Trafalgar D. Law was a young man in his absolute prime, with power and charisma and infamy to back up his utterly illegal beauty. Tying that down would be its own entire crime. "No. I only care that you come back eventually."</p><p>Gods, he could <i>see</i> the transition in color as Law's ears lit red. Unabashed as he was in everything else, in raw physicality, this was where his hangups lay?</p><p>"Well. That's downright romantic."</p><p>Smoker snorted. "I'm brusque, not oafish."</p><p>This laugh... this one, soft, sounded a little less forced, rough, unpracticed. How cute.</p><p>"True enough. There are others who have you beat for that title tenfold."</p><p>"You never gave me your answer, Trafalgar."</p><p>"<i>Law</i>. Idiot. Yes." Those long, pretty fingers, acting no worse for wear despite a little bruise or two blooming around the knuckles, reached back, and Smoker twined his own with them far more gently this time.  "I'm yours," the brunet continued, voice soft. "On one condition."</p><p>"Name it."</p><p>Smoker barely knew what the hell happened. One moment, that sweet body was all slick heat and snug tension and heated caress under his; the next, it went somehow boneless and soft enough to ease off his barely-shrinking knot and still firm cock, yet twisted rebar and sprung steel enough to flip Smoker onto his back with a soft <i>oof</i>, and ended up perched on his belly. Smoker could feel hot, thick wet seeping from between those fine legs and onto his stomach, and his eyes narrowed slowly at the cheeky bastard settled so casually atop him. Law grinned.</p><p>"Just this: I get to mark you."</p><p>Smoker blinked, brows tightening in pure, uncolored confusion. How? "Betas don't - "</p><p>"I don't care about the preternatural connections," Law huffed. Those long, beautiful fingers glided slowly up his chest, trailed so delicately up the thick tendons of his neck. Gold eyes were half-focused, watching his own path over Smoker's body, and at the same time, pleasantly distant. "But I'm going to leave a scar in your skin, Vice Admiral."</p><p>Smoker cursed under his breath, lifting his hands and gripping those trim hips, pressing at bruises. "You can leave as many of those as you like." Almost without thought, he jumped one hand up to the back of Law's neck, settling his hand neatly across that new mark and giving a slow, firm squeeze. Law's eyes rolled back immediately, spine turning to jelly, hands fumbling to brace on Smoker's torso to keep him from slumping entirely down onto the other man's chest. His lashes fluttered, breath coming in soft trembles that Smoker watched puff over quivering lips for a long moment before letting go.</p><p>Law caught himself in an instant, hands firming on Smoker's chest, eyes opening to focus sharply on the other's face. "Fucking cheater," he half-hissed.</p><p>Smoker's hum was more amused than it maybe had any right to be. "You'll be able to do the same to me. With or without the preternatural entanglement." He let his hands, his eyes, trail over the other man's body in a way he'd never quite allowed before. Predatory. <i>Possessive</i>. After a long moment, he flicked his gaze back up to the other's, catching him staring enraptured at Smoker's expression. The older man nearly purred to see it. "I guarantee it."</p><p>"...Good." Law's breath was already heavy. He rocked up, onto his knees, still straddled across Smoker's lap, and reached between his thighs to fondle the stretched, slick entrance of his body. Smoker watched every movement with a newfound, rapturous hunger, nearly salivating to see fingers come back sticky and slick with thick, voluminous white. Law grinned, making a show of rubbing the fucking <i>puddle</i> of Smoker's virile cum, leaked from inside himself, between his thumb and fingertips where Smoker could clearly see.</p><p>"Now open your damn legs so I can fuck you, Smo-yan."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Want to support what I do? Find me on other sites through my <a href="https://kabochakitsune.carrd.co/">carrd</a>!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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